10. Vasile
Chapter ten
Vasile
When I fall asleep that morning, it is restless, and I am unsurprised to find myself awake again around noon, my thoughts centred on Deacon. I cannot believe that he—that I let him—
I climb out of the bed and shower, turning my mind deliberately away from the spiral of thoughts it could easily go down. It does not matter what Deacon and I have done. We do not have time to deal with that right now.
I towel off my hair, frowning at my reflection. I could have said no. If I were at all sensible, I would have. And it is not that I regret what we did—what he did—but all the doubts and fears that were between us were not erased by the touch of his mouth on my skin.
Honestly. I shake my head at my reflection, then at the state of my hair, curling as it slowly begins to dry. The closer I get to Deacon, the more danger he is in from Tamesis. And with the hunters already knocking at his door, I cannot make things worse.
I grip the edges of the sink so hard my hands hurt. Deacon was always meant to be in the position he is in. He was born for it, and not in a way that means he was brought up to lead. No. Deacon was born to help others, to assist and guide and watch over them.
I was not. Never.
Mouth twisting in disgust, I push off from the sink and go back into the bedroom, dressing with sharp movements. I cannot remain in this flat, brooding the day away.
I slip out into the hall, glad to see that the windows at either end have been warded, and make my way to Kieran’s flat. The door opens before I even knock, and I blink up at Drew, who offers me a sheepish smile.
“Sorry, I, uh—Knew it was you.”
“May I come in?”
“Yeah, of course.” He steps aside, ushering me in, and as soon as the door is closed, he moves back into the kitchen. Sam is sitting on one of the counters, swinging his legs back and forth.
“Go nap,” he says as he drags Drew in close. “You only just got back from work.”
“Just wanna make lunch.” His hands fall to Sam’s hips as Sam nuzzles the side of his neck, and I force my eyes away, throat working. I wish nothing but the best for them—for all of them—but I am all too aware of how quickly their happiness could be snatched away from them, especially now.
“Vasile!” Kieran comes out of his bedroom and smiles when he sees me. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, yes. Thank you. I should have said it last night, but—”
Kieran shrugs. Ophelia and Dante are sitting on the sofa, Dante peering down at a book, and Kieran gestures at one of the free armchairs. I take one and he takes the other, twisting so he can look at me properly.
“It’s fine,” he says. “You need anything? If you need to feed, we can—”
“No. It is not that. I was awake and I thought I might be of more use here.”
Kieran’s smile tells me he understands, and I truly think he does. Deacon was not wrong to give him his own pack. For a being so young—because he is, particularly next to me—he understands the world better than I ever did at his age.
“Well, I called my necromancer friend,” Ophelia says. The way she says friend suggests he is, in fact, not one at all. “He says we can reignite the bond, but it’s probably a bad idea.”
Sam comes and sits on the sofa next to her. I nod.
“Well, that aside…” I say.
“That aside,” Ophelia repeats, “I know the mechanics of how to go about it, though there’s a little more reading I’d have to do to be sure. It’ll take a lot of power—from both of us. And he told me it’d be like when you were a fledgling. Strong.”
“Will Tamesis feel it?” Guilt tugs at my insides, but I never promised Deacon I wouldn’t go through with it.
“I don’t know. And I asked. My friend, he’s never heard of it being done . Just that, in theory, it could be.”
“All right.” I trust she’s being honest. The magic that creates mating bonds, and the bonds between sires and their turns, is beyond most of us. It is tied into the very foundations of what we are—which, I supposed, is why Kieran has developed one despite not having a wolf at all. “This is not an avenue I am desperate to pursue,” I say, wanting to clarify. “But if we have no other choice…”
Ophelia bites her lip, frowning, but Sam nods. “Yeah, I get it. You’re not wrong to want to look into it. It’d definitely help us track Tamesis, but the odds of him working it out and using it against us seems pretty high.”
“Shelve it for now then,” Kieran says. He sighs and picks up a laptop sitting next to the chair. “Call it plan… whatever. The last resort.”
I huff an amused breath. Kieran opens the laptop and reads whatever’s on the screen intently. After a few moments, Sam joins him, though he raises his eyebrows at me as he perches on the arm of the chair.
“Pack applications,” he mutters.
Ah. I am, truthfully, surprised that they have had so many so quickly. Maybe I should not be. Those outside our packs and our clan and the Council will likely be more sensitive than most to what has been happening.
I excuse myself to the hallway, taking my phone out of my pocket. The sudden urge to call Deacon almost overwhelms me, but I know better. Despite the early afternoon hour, I call Njáll.
“Crai?” He doesn’t sound like he’s been sleeping, and I frown at the opposite wall. “Is everything—”
“Everything is fine.” I sigh. “I have discussed with the coven the possibility of reigniting the bond between myself and Tamesis.”
Njáll’s sharp inhale is the only way I know I’ve surprised him. “Is that… even possible?” he asks.
“In theory. It is not something I wish to do right away, but if we go through with it, if I—”
Njáll was a warrior. Is a warrior. He is almost of an age with me and is incredibly powerful in his own right.
He cares for the clan, too, in the same way Deacon cares for the packs.
He will not hesitate to do what needs to be done.
“Crai…”
“If he takes control of me and tries to get me to hurt others, I need your word.”
“Vas—”
“Njáll. Please.”
We’re both silent for a moment, then Njáll says, “Yes. I’ll do it. But it won’t come to that.”
“I hope not.”
“The hunters have been here,” Njáll says. “They arrived just after you left and only departed at sunrise.”
“They may well be back tonight.”
“I expect so. Elle’s been in contact with Chaya. None of the packs have let them in yet, though several of them have received visits as well.”
“Did they indicate that they knew where I was?” I don’t doubt they do. It’s no coincidence that the hunters arrived here first last night before anywhere else.
“Not to us,” Njáll says, “but I believe they do.”
I hum to acknowledge that I’ve heard him. Did Deacon return last night and tell his alphas not to let the hunters in? It would not have hurt their packs if they had; I am not there, after all.
Why did he touch me last night? Why did he go to his knees for me?
Why didn’t he kiss me?
“Do you need to feed?” Njáll asks, and I snap my attention back to the call.
“I—No. No, I’m fine. I have a few days yet.” Sneaking Jamal out of the clan is out of the question. Adam and Lucien likely have blood bags here and the coven can ensure they are safe for us to drink. “I’ll be fine.”
“All right,” Njáll says. He doesn’t sound sure.
“Let me know if you have any updates. On anything.”
“Yes, crai.”
I hang up the call and stalk back down the hall, phone clasped firmly in my grip. The next call I have to make—I trust that Drew will not listen in, but he cannot help what he overhears, and this is one I want to make in privacy.
Jeremiah takes a while to answer, and I pace the living room the entire time, listening to it ring against my ear.
“Who is it?” His tone is cold.
“Vasile.”
“Oh?” The surprise in his voice is genuine. “Everything okay?”
I huff. “Not particularly. Tell me what you know.”
Jeremiah makes an amused sound. “Bossy.” There’s a murmur of another voice in the background—Paxton if I had to guess. “Well, Moreau’s out. You heard that, didn’t you?”
“Yes. He told me.”
“Well, what are you calling me for? The Hunt’s lost some influence over the Council, of course, but it’s not like that really matters. Pax and I are just trying to track down these mages. We can’t scent them, so they’re hard to get.”
“They’re the least of our problems.”
“What?”
I tell him about Nathan. About Deacon finding his body and Kieran joining him.
“He left it outside their building?” Jeremiah scoffs. “What is he, a housecat?”
“You know he isn’t.”
“How are they? Kieran and Drew? They’re okay?”
“Yes. They’re fine. Safe. Is there some way we can track Tamesis down?”
“Not unless you know something we don’t. Can’t the mages help?”
I rub my temples, trying to ward off a headache that’s threatening to form. “They’re trying. They can’t track him.”
“Well, no then.”
“I’m thinking about having them reignite the bond between me and Tamesis again.”
Jeremiah is silent for a moment. Then, “Vasile, no .”
“What else am I supposed to do? There’s no other way to track him—or these mages—so we’re just going to be running around in circles until he kills us—”
“Tell him,” Paxton says in the background, and Jeremiah growls.
“He’s using fae magic,” he says.
“What?” I know fae blood is involved, of course. Sam told us that—that’s what has made the mages so powerful.
“A fae gave Tamesis some vials of his blood. An exchange. It’s a limited amount, and I’m sure he’s running out by now, but we can’t count on that slowing him down. He’ll have a contingency plan for when that happens.”
I sink down onto the sofa, my head spinning. “I don’t—That—Is that how he keeps coming back?”
Jeremiah is silent for a moment before he sighs. “Yes. We think so.”
“Do you think he has enough that he could come back again?”
“No,” Jeremiah says, and this time he sounds certain. “It takes a lot, and he would have needed someone else to give it to him both times.”
Because I left him drained and out on the bridge. Because Kieran’s father and the other wolves took him and dumped him in the woods.
“A fae was helping him?”
“Vasile… just be careful. Okay? He can’t be brought back again, but if he’s got fae magic in him and you reforge that connection, it’ll be worse than you can ever imagine. He will have power over you.”
I frown, clenching my jaw. “I know. I won’t do it.”
“Good. Keep those boys safe, got it?”
“Got it.”
Jeremiah hangs up and I sigh, dropping my phone onto the cushion beside me. I run my hands through my still damp hair.
Fae. Why would the fae help Tamesis? All he wants is revenge and power. Why would the fae care about that?
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. Our last resort plan is a no-go.
For now, anyway.